The voices stopped mid-sentence.

  Ethan pushed the door open. "Grandma, I'm home."

  Carolina turned first, her expression smoothing instantly. The younger woman followed a heartbeat ter.

  She was tall, dressed in a long bck coat edged with pale gold. Her posture was effortless, confident in the way only someone used to command could be. Long, ash-blonde hair fell straight down her back, and when her gray eyes settled on Ethan, they sharpened with sudden intensity.

  Approaching Champion Cynthia began to py in his head.

  His breath hitched.

  Not because anything happened.

  Not because the air changed, or the room grew heavy, or some invisible force pressed down on him.

  But because his brain recognized her before he did.

  Every instinct he had—every half-remembered warning, 2 straight weeks as a child being utterly rolled by Spirit Tomb and then Garchomp.

  He froze.

  Eevee shifted closer to his leg, ears angling forward, mirroring his tension without understanding it.

  Neither woman seemed to notice.

  Carolina gestured calmly. "Ethan, this is my granddaughter. Your aunt."

  The woman stepped forward, expression composed, voice warm and entirely normal. "My name is Cynthia. It's nice to see you again, you've grown so much."

  ""We've met before?" Ethan asked, a little too quickly, scrambling through his memories and finding nothing but static.

  "I didn't expect you to remember," Cynthia said gently. "You were barely old enough to hold your head up." A faint, almost nostalgic amusement flickered in her eyes. "You were very fond of grabbing my hair."

  Ethan stared at her.

  "…Oh dear Arceus," he muttered. "I tried to eat the Champion's hair."

  For half a second, Cynthia froze.

  Then she ughed—soft, surprised, and entirely human.

  Carolina closed her eyes. "You were teething."

  Cynthia straightened slightly, a curious glint entering her eyes as she looked back at Ethan. "So," she said lightly, "you know I'm the Champion, huh?"

  Ethan nodded without hesitation. "Of course. You're the strongest Pokémon trainer in the world."

  The words nded heavier than he intended.

  Cynthia blinked—just once.

  Carolina's eyes opened.

  The room went very still.

  "…That's quite the statement," Cynthia said carefully, studying him with renewed interest. "Most kids your age know the title. Not many phrase it like that."

  "Well," Ethan said simply, "it's true."

  Cynthia's eyebrow lifted. "What about Dragon Master Lance? He's pretty strong."

  Ethan didn't even think about it.

  "You mean Flying Master?"

  The words were out of his mouth before his brain could hit the brakes.

  There was a pause.

  A long one.

  Then—

  Cynthia stared at him.

  And then she ughed.

  Not a polite chuckle. Not a restrained smile. Actual ughter, sharp and surprised, one hand rising to cover her mouth as it slipped out anyway.

  "…You're not wrong," she admitted between breaths. "His entire team is Flying-type unless he brings his younger Dragonair." She shook her head, still smiling. "I am absolutely bringing that up next time I see him."

  Ethan watched, stunned, as Champion Cynthia—the Champion—ughed like a normal person who'd just heard a really good joke.

  After a moment, she exhaled and straightened, composure returning.

  "I'd really like to introduce you to my friend Caitlin," she said, tone softer now. "But I can't be seen with you. Not yet. I'm the new Champion, and the reporters are… invasive." Her expression hardened slightly. "Someone might even try to come after you."

  Ethan didn't hesitate.

  "Let them," he said.

  Eevee sat a little taller at his side, ears forward.

  "Eevee's strong."

  "VEE!"

  Carolina's gaze flicked to the Pokémon, sharp and calcuting. "Oh?" she said. "How strong. Can he demonstrate his strongest move?"

  Ethan hesitated.

  Just for a second.

  "Sure," he said finally. "But not in the house. It'll… do a lot of damage."

  Carolina's eyebrow rose a fraction.

  "Oh, really?" Cynthia asked, and there it was—that unmistakable spark of interest. Not concern. Not doubt. Excitement.

  Ethan immediately regretted everything.

  They moved outside to the open stone clearing behind the house, where ancient markers ringed a wide training space that had clearly seen use before. The air felt older out here, heavier somehow—like the nd itself was paying attention.

  Cynthia stepped back, folding her arms. "Whenever you're ready."

  Carolina adjusted her stance, already watching Eevee the way a researcher watched a controlled experiment.

  Ethan swallowed.

  "Ethan swallowed.

  "…Okay, Eevee," he said quietly. "Rapid fire. Full power."

  For half a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then Eevee moved.

  The first Hyper Beam tore free with the same bone-rattling roar as before, smming into the far stone wall and exploding it into dust and molten fragments.

  Eevee didn't even pause.

  The second beam followed less than a second ter.

  Then a third.

  Then a fourth.

  White-gold nces ripped across the clearing in rapid succession, each one carving deeper trenches into ancient stone, each impact detonating with thunderous force. The air screamed. Shockwaves rippled outward, fttening grass, rattling windows in distant Celestic Town.

  Cynthia took an involuntary step back.

  Carolina forgot to breathe.

  "This is impossible," Carolina said, the words coming out ft, stripped of disbelief and repced with something far worse—professional horror. "Hyper Beam requires recovery. Even fully trained Dragon-types—"

  Another beam fired.

  Eevee's stance was stable. Controlled. Its body glowed faintly, but there was no recoil, no visible strain beyond heavy breathing. It wasn't burning itself out.

  It was cycling the move.

  Cynthia's eyes were locked on Eevee now, every trace of amusement gone. Her hand had drifted, unconsciously, to the Poké Ball at her hip—not in threat, but instinct.

  "Stop," she said quietly.

  Ethan felt it too—the edge of something slipping.

  "Eevee!" he snapped. "That's enough!"

  The final beam cut off mid-charge, dispersing harmlessly into sparks. Eevee staggered once, then sat down hard, tongue lolling as it panted.

  "Veeeee…"

  Silence hung heavy over the clearing.

  Ethan was still staring at Eevee, mouth slightly open. He'd been expecting two—maybe three—Hyper Beams.

  Not… that.

  "…Okay," Cynthia said at st, breaking the quiet, tone carefully light. "When you grow up, I'm giving you a Feebas."

  Ethan blinked. "From your Milotic? Am I getting a Prism Scale with it, or like… twenty Pamtre Berries?"

  Both women froze.

  "You know how to evolve a Feebas?" Carolina snapped, shock cutting straight through her composure. "Not even Cynthia has ever told me."

  Cynthia turned slowly toward Ethan. "…I thought I just loved my fish enough and it evolved."

  Ethan shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that'll do it too. You evolved it by making it feel beautiful. That's probably the hardest possible method, honestly. It's like making a Magikarp jump the Dragon Gate."

  He paused, then added, thoughtfully, "Though if you actually manage that, you'd probably get a Flying Gyarados."

  The clearing went very, very quiet.

  Cynthia stared at him.

  Carolina stared harder.

  "…How," Cynthia asked slowly, "do you know this?"

  Ethan hesitated. He searched for an expnation that wouldn't immediately get him locked in a b.

  "I don't," he said finally. "I just… know things."

  Carolina's eyes narrowed, mind already racing. "Perhaps it is connected to the psychic ability the doctors believe you awakened before the tragedy."

  Ethan resisted the urge to wince. If only you knew how wrong you are.

  Cynthia, meanwhile, looked far more intrigued than armed.

  "…All right," she said, curiosity clearly winning. "Then answer me this. Do you know how to evolve a Growlithe? It's still considered a regional mystery outside of Kanto."

  Ethan answered immediately.

  "You use a Fire Stone."

  There was a long pause.

  "…That's it?" Cynthia asked.

  "Yes."